With all due respect

Pluralism and parity of esteem

Reconciliation groups emerged in Northern
Ireland for the first time in 1964 but mushroomed post-69. The
focus of their activities varied and included addressing political
issues, developing ecumenical understanding and bringing children
and families from the two sides together. They can be classified
in four ways: international communities of reconciliation, containing
groups formed with the specific intention of acting as centres
for reconciliation, such as the Corrymeela Community; local groups
formed in the midst of hostility; groups formed out of the experience
of violent bereavement; and children's community relations holidays.[1]

As community-based programmes evolved, mainly within the voluntary
sector, their influence began to be felt in such areas as education,
youth work and community development. In the latter half of the
80s, government came to espouse an explicit community-relations
policy, which emphasised three objectives: (a) to increase opportunities
for contact between Protestants and Catholics, (b) to encourage
tolerance of cultural pluralism and (c) to seek to achieve equality
of opportunity for all citizens. A community relations infrastructure
was reestablished with the creation in 1987 of the Central Community
Relations Unit (CCRU) within the Central Secretariat of the Northern
Ireland civil service, followed by the establishment of the Northern
Ireland Community Relations Council (NICRC) in 1990.

An instance of such official recognition was the 1989 Education
Reform Order, with the inclusion in the new core school curriculum
of 'education for mutual understanding' (EMU) and a commitment
to promote integrated education. Other initiatives have included
the encouragement of cross-community contact between schools,
the employment of community relations officers in local government
and, outside government, the anti-sectarian programmes of the
trade union movement.[2]

Yet two things are evident about these community-relations initiatives.
The first is how long it took-two decades of intense political
violence - before government responded to the challenge of communal
division and to innovative developments on the ground. The second
is their overall failure: there is widespread agreement amongst
commentators that Northern Ireland is now not only more segregated
but more polarised than ever.

Although teachers and academics had
been active from the early 70s in this arena, government was more
cautious about suggestions that schools should be involved with
community relations. Its first public commitment was a 1982 circular
called The Improvement of Community Relations: The Contribution
of Schools, which said: "Every teacher, every school
manager, board member and trustee, and every educational administrator
within the system has a responsibility for helping children learn
to understand and respect each other."

By 1989 this had been worked up to the Education Reform Order,
which specified that two cross-curricular themes related to community
relations be included in the Northern Ireland curriculum: EMU
and 'cultural heritage'.[3] EMU has four objectives:

fostering respect for self and others,

understanding conflict,

appreciating interdependence, and

understanding cultural traditions.

Cultural heritage addresses three concerns:

interaction, interdependence, continuity and change;

shared, diverse and distinctive features of different traditions;
and

international and transnational influences.

The order placed a statutory responsibility on school governors
to report annually to parents on steps taken to promote EMU, but
there is no direct EMU assessment of individual pupils. It has
become clear that many schools also see the aims being communicated
less formally, by the nature of relationships within the schools,
and between the school and the wider community. In this sense,
many schools claim that the aims of EMU are already implicit in
their whole-school ethos.

While the themes are a mandatory feature of the curriculum, crosscommunity
contact with pupils of other schools remains an optional strategy
which teachers are encouraged to use.[4] By 1994-5,
45 per cent of schools were involved in the cross-community contact
scheme, though the Department of Education has estimated that
this involved fewer than 20 per cent of primary and fewer than
10 per cent of secondary pupils.

Perhaps the most dramatic development in education over the past
20 years has been the emergence of integrated schools, now attended
by around 2 per cent of pupils. It is envisaged that they should
be open to children from all and no religious backgrounds, but
in practice schools are Christian in character and the founders,
parents, teachers and managers have developed workable procedures
for teaching religion. The Education Reform Order created a mechanism
for funding them and placed a statutory responsibility on government
to promote integrated education.

Among those interviewed for the purpose of this report, there
was universal support for integrated education. Personally speaking,
Jim Gibney (SF) believes in multi-denominational education: "[T]he
integrated schools at the moment clearly are trying to have a
balanced ethos, a balanced curriculum and it is certainly something
that I would welcome ..." Jonathan Stephenson (SDLP) offered
the caution that integrated education was "not the only solution"
because without forced bussing it would be impossible to integrate
pupils from inner-city areas, but was generally supportive of
integrated schooling and EMU. David Adams (UDP) describes himself
as a "great supporter" of integrated education, thinks
that "on both sides of the community the churches have a
lot to answer for" and argues that respect for other people's
culture "has to be nurtured from an early stage ... in the
schooling system".

There was common complaint that, at school, many of those interviewed
had learnt nothing of their, or the other, community's identity.
Carmel Gallagher of the Northern Ireland Curriculum Advisory Council
points out that although it was intended that a common Northern
Ireland history curriculum would provide a structured history
of Northern Ireland, this is no longer the case. This component
has been altered, giving only a snap shot of certain events in
the region's history, such as the Belfast blitz and the 60s. She
would like to see a specific component of the history curriculum,
catering for the history of the north, pre- and post-partition.
Although Ms Gallagher admits there is opposition from teachers
being placed, as they see it, in the front line of community relations,
she argues that the absence of any other sources of information
about the history of Northern Ireland, apart from family and peer
group, may be a significant factor in the reproduction of sectarian
perspectives.

Dr Mari Fitzduff, formerly of the NICRC, calls on government to
"face up to the existing educational interests and put a
priority on integrated education". This would involve financial
incentives for schools who "will take on board the integrated
school ethos ... I would be happier with a situation where you
actually had to be financially penalised for keeping an exclusive
[single religious] school". While endorsing EMU, Dr Fitzduff
stresses that in a shared educational environment you learn contacts
and you learn networks that actually go away beyond schooling".

Flags and symbols are central to the
debate about parity of esteem. Bryson and McCartney explain that
while flags have their practical uses, their primary function
has always been social communication. National flags in particular
stimulate the viewer to feel and act in a calculated way. They
represent or identify the existence, presence, origin, possession,
loyalty, glory, beliefs, objectives and status of an entire nation.
They are empowered to honour, dishonour, warn and encourage, threaten
and promise, exalt and condemn, and commemorate. Flags authenticate
claims, dramatise political demands, establish a common framework
within which like-minded nations are willing to work out mutually
agreeable solutions - or postulate and maintain irreconcilable
differences that prevent agreements from occurring.

Flags are a mark of identity: they identify ourselves, they identify
others and they provide a sign around which people can gather.
As well as being a distinguishing mark, they are also a symbol
of identity in a more emotional and psychological sense - a symbol
through which one expresses one's loyalties and allegiances. Symbols
become simple representations of group identity. They can be unifying,
but only for those who want to identify with the group. They not
only express a sense of belonging, but they can play a more active
part in encouraging it, particularly when they are used as part
of some ceremony They help to create a sense of occasion and highlight
the importance of an event, and in turn they are honoured by being
included in a special function.[5]

Bryson and McCartney argue that both unionists and nationalists
treat British and Irish symbols as representing the institutions
of the state, not the people or the territory although they may
not articulate this distinction, or perhaps even recognise it
consciously For unionists it is the institutions of the state
which are important. The British national anthem and the Union
flag represent the state institutions which exercise sovereignty
over Northern Ireland, and thereby provides a sense of security
in the face of the perceived risk of the unification of Ireland.

Unionists are often told that British-ness is not a real identity,
that there is no British nation, that Britishness is an expression
of citizenship. But this, say Bryson and McCartney, misses the
point of what unionists want from their Britishness - citizenship
in the sense of identification with the institutions of the state.
For a unionist, if the Union flag is not flown, or the national
anthem is not played, it is a sign that the link with Britain
is being weakened. For unionists, the symbols of the Irish state
are seen as irredentist and threatening and unionists would prefer
them to be controlled.

On the other hand, when nationalists see the British flag, or
hear the anthem, they also do not see them as representing the
people or territory of the UK. Like unionists, they are more aware
of them as symbols of the state. Unlike unionists, nationalists
do not have the same benign view of that state. For them it is
an order imposed within Ireland, in a most hostile form, and is
seen as an imperialist system.

Not all nationalists share the degree of hostility republicans
display towards the British state. Some are willing to respect
the symbols, though they tend to feel they are overused and unnecessary
on many occasions. But all nationalists have a sense of Irishness,
whether or not they want the early reunification of Ireland. An
important expression of identification is the Tricolour and the
anthem. On the other hand, many nationalists do aspire to a united
Ireland, and would work for that goal. They share some of the
émigré sense of attachment to the symbols of the
motherland: the exile may be able to return home; the colonial
subject may see the country become free.

Divisions within Irish nationalism are reflected in the differing
perspectives of Jonathan Stephenson and Jim Gibney. Mr Stephenson
has "no problem with the Union Jack on public buildings",
but "I do have a slight problem with it on kerb stones ...
because that's dogs marking out territory".

Mr Gibney argues that until such time as the constitutional future
of Northern Ireland is resolved, northern nationalists should
be treated with "respect ... integrity and ... dignity, and
that needs to be reflected in the laws of the land and in symbols
of the state as well". He goes further than Mr Stephenson,
however, calling for the removal of all symbols of Britishness
from the Northern Ireland state, claiming that their usage demonstrates
cultural discrimination against nationalists and republicans:

We either ... seek neutral symbols, which both communities can
pledge their allegiance to, or else, where the Union Jack flies,
so the Irish national flag flies alongside it. The prefix 'royal'
for example, is] again the symbol of one community. We believe
you should seek neutral symbols, I so] there shouldn't be 'Royal'
Courts of Justice, the 'Royal' Ulster Constabulary, the 'Royal'
Mail; all of these [symbols] need to be removed and [in]
this process of removing them, what you are in fact doing is ...
legitimising a tradition, an identity which has been delegitimised
since 1920, since this state was formed. In other words, a total
reversal of what we have had to date, a British state imposed
upon a community which does not want that state to be here.

For the republic's government, one of the successes of the Anglo-Irish
Agreement was the repeal of the Flags and Emblems Act, allowing
the Tricolour to be flown more frequently. It suggests that attention
could be paid to the use of flags at police stations and court
houses, favouring diminished use of the Union flag and greater
emphasis on neutrality It realises that it would too much to expect
that the Tricolour would be allowed to fly over state buildings
in Northern Ireland, but would wish portraits of the Queen to
be removed from police stations.

Although Dublin is conscious that it cannot say this publicly,
effectively it is trying to get nationalists to accept Northern
Ireland as their home, providing them with incentives in terms
of how the region is administered on a day-to-day basis. It accepts
this may be perceived as 'Irishising' Northern Ireland, but argues
that in practice if Northern Ireland is going to stay British
- as its commitment to the 'consent principle' implies for the
foreseeable future - then symbolic adjustment in the direction
of nationalists is not really going to have any impact on the
constitutional status of the region.

From a loyalist perspective, David Adams cautions that if parity
of esteem means a complete removal of all flags and symbols from
government buildings, or institutions of the state, it will be
"very hard to achieve"; and as for the Tricolour flying
side by side with the Union Jack, "I believe that would be
impossible". Unionists do not know where the process will
end and become concerned about what the future holds. He accepts
that many "clearly haven't made the jump" in recognising
the Irishness of northern nationalists, but also fears nationalists,
and republicans in particular, wish to have no recognition of
the "British-Protestant-Ulster" culture.

Rationalising the fears many unionists have of the consequences
which might arise, following the removal of British symbols in
Northern Ireland, Bob McCartney (UKUP) stresses that the debate
over symbols and expressions of identity, such as over increased
showing of Gaelic games on television, are "things which
people like me in a pluralist society don't give a toss about".
However, Mr McCartney recognises that a lot of unionists are paranoid,
and he claims they are paranoid because, since 1921, the British
government has

kept them at arm's length in a sort of limbo where it would put
them out if it could, it would solve the Irish problem thereby]
and, therefore, it has almost institutionalised political anxiety
and worry and fear about our future among the unionist community.
And therefore they have become hyper-sensitive to any symbol or
indications that their Britishness is being undermined. This has
been accelerated by the other side, by the desire of extreme nationalism.

'Extreme nationalism', Mr McCartney claims, has politicised its
culture and "they are saying, this is our culture, this is
going to be the predominant culture and as we advance these cultural
symbols we are pointing out to the unionists this is the way it
is going to go".

On the other hand, he contends, unionists, conditioned by the
uncertainty of their political future, become increasingly attached
to the symbols which reassure them that they are British. The
advance of Catholic cultural symbols is "not seen with the
political confidence and assurance [with which] that would be
viewed in a state that was totally pluralist or where the citizens
were confident and certain of their political identity It is seen
as a state which is under threat and where the advance of nationalist
symbols is very often at the expense of a reduction of the symbols
which assured them that they were still British."

As for Gaelic culture, many unionists, Ian Paisley Jnr (DUP) contends,
"feel uncomfortable whenever the Irish language is spoken".
He feels uncomfortable, claiming that it has been "politically
hijacked and [that] those who even don't use it [make of
it a] political vehicle ... I don't identify with it, it is not
mine and indeed I have a sense that it is hostile to me."
Mr Paisley's interaction with Catholics is on the basis that "at
the end of the day we are all English-speaking". He claims
nationalists, including in such contexts as graduation at Queen's
University, should "accept the national anthem because that
is the nation's national anthem".

For all the moderation of the efforts of the republic's government,
then, it is clear that unionists feel almost universal unease
or even fear that what they see as symbolic expressions of their
identity are being challenged in a zero-sum unionist-nationalist
game.

Institutional forms of cultural expression
in Northern Ireland range beyond flags and symbols, particularly
in terms of policing and public order. Parades remain a flashpoint,
as demonstrated during the successive Drumcree disturbances, in
1995 and 1996, which brought Northern Ireland to a standstill
with widespread civil unrest. Issues concerning policing policies,
structures and practices - and the administration of justice generally
- have polarised Northern Ireland since the establishment of the
state, and they continue to divide the two communities.

On the one hand, most unionists see the various institutional
arrangements and legislative frameworks for the maintenance of
law and order as essential to the preservation of the constitutional
status quo, faced with the threat of militant republicanism.
On the other hand, most nationalists view the same institutions
and legislation as yet more examples of the sectarian nature of
the state. From the creation of the state, the RUC was trained
to perform not only the normal functions of a civilian police
force, but also a paramilitary role to counter the threat posed
by the IRA. In that role it was to be supported by the Ulster
Special Constabulary from the outset viewed with suspicion, resentment
and even hatred by most Catholics.

Following the communal disturbances of 1969, in 1970 the USC was
replaced by the Ulster Defence Regiment and, to free the RUC from
political control, a Police Act established a new Police Authority
for Northern Ireland, intended to be representative of the main
sections of the community. The RUC complement, previously limited
to 3,500, was raised, leading ultimately to a full-time force
of 8,478 by 1992, when there was also a full-time reserve of 3,160
and a part-time reserve of 1,432. This increase was not, however,
matched by increased Catholic participation: whereas in 1961 Catholics
comprised 12 per cent of the force, this had fallen back to 7.7
per cent by 1992.

A mixed and polarised opinion has been recorded in surveys and
polls on policing. A Belfast Telegraph poll in 1985 reported
that while a substantial proportion of both Protestants (59 per
cent) and Catholics (43 per cent) said the RUG carried out its
duties fairly, the rest of the Protestants (37 per cent) said
that the RUC carried out its duties very fairly while the rest
of the Catholics (53 per cent) said that it carried out its duties
unfairly or very unfairly.[6]

The 'security forces' are one of the largest employment sectors
in Northern Ireland, amounting in total to some 21,000 jobs. Some
11,500 are employed in the RUC and some 7,500 in locally recruited
and locally deployed units of the Royal Irish Regiment, formerly
the UDR. The remainder are employed in the prisons service and
publicly financed security positions. In 1992, 87 per cent of
these employees were drawn from the Protestant community, whereas
only 7 per cent were Catholic (the remainder being in many cases
recruited in Britain).

There is thus clearly a widespread Catholic perception that the
institutional weight of the security apparatus in Northern Ireland
is tilted towards the Protestant community and fails to meet the
aspiration for parity of esteem. It is also clear that a radical
overhaul would be required to rise to this challenge - incremental
change would simply be too slow and too limited. It is thus unfortunate
that the widespread debate initiated by the Police Authority under
its former chair, David Cook, was not translated into more innovative
responses after Mr Cook was forced from his position by internal
dissent.

But there is also no doubting unionist sensitivities. Dr Henry
Allen affirms that unionists "at the present time would not
want to give up the 'Royal' because the 'Royal' to them is an
association with Britishness ... I mean to start trying to go
against everything that is British is to me totally counterproductive."

The policing question is itself entangled with the major parades
issue. For those who support and oppose the right of parades to
follow 'traditional' routes which the RUG has to police, perceptions
of what the events symbolise differ substantially Jarman and Bryan
argue that the formalised and routinised nature of parades and
their repetitiveness over time gives the impression of social
continuity - of tradition. As ritual events, they may convey a
lack of change, and many participants understand them as 'traditional',
and therefore depoliticised, but they are clearly part of the
present charged political situation. Indeed, it is precisely at
times of change that communities require certain identifications
with a past to be perceived as more secure. To many outside the
bands and orders, it feels like the parades are a conspiracy to
rule the streets of Northern Ireland each summer, whereas to those
taking part each parade expresses a localised variant of an increasingly
disparate loyalism.[7]

George Patton of the Orange Order denies that an Orange parade
is triumphalist and sees it as an expression of religious and
civil liberty for all Northern Ireland's citizens:

People think we remember 1690 and the Battle of the Boyne because
the Prods beat the Taigs, which is nonsense - they didn't. Protestants
and Roman Catholics fought on both sides ... There was an element
of religion in that war as there was in every war during that
century and many wars before and since, but what the Battle of
the Boyne was all about was a system of government, James II,
absolute power, or William and Mary, willing to co-operate with
Parliament ... So that is why the 'glorious revolution' and the
Boyne which secured the revolution is important to me, rather
than a battle. If we wanted to be triumphalist we would actually
celebrate Aughrim, which was the bloody battle of the war and
where it probably was more religion than anything else.

Many unionists see attempts to reroute parades as a deliberate
and co-ordinated assault on their Britishness. Billy Hutchinson
of the PUP believes the "parades issue is one that has been
picked up particularly by republicans" whom he accuses of
"a lack of recognition ... that the British presence is not
the British government ... [but the] unionist population".
Yet much about a parade can indeed be perceived as triumphalist.
The banners carry images of battles and individuals deemed central
to the Protestant cause. For many Catholics there is little religious
about the Orange institution: it celebrates and represents political
victories. Moreover, the order is seen in a broader context: it
was, and to a certain extent still is, part of the Northern Ireland
state from which many Catholics feel alienated.[8]

The republic's government regarded Drumcree in 1996 as a devastating
dismissal of parity of esteem, arguing that there has been no
equivalent effort by nationalists to shove their values down the
throats of unionists. It regards the reversal of the RUG'S original
decision not to let the Orange parade down the Garvaghy Road in
Portadown as a massive surrender, raising fundamental questions
about the institutions of the state and their attitude towards
Orangeism and loyalism. The episode signalled, in Dublin's view,
that while the British government might make certain assertions
about parity of esteem, when it came down to it all that unionists
had to do was to beat the drums and those assertions of neutrality
would go out the door. Reacting to unionist fears about the cultural
retreat of Britishness in Northern Ireland, the republic's government
starts from the premise that in 1922 unionists were given 'a Protestant
state for a Protestant people', and if unionists and nationalists
are to share the Northern Ireland state then there is an element
of cultural retreat involved in moving away from dominance to
sharing.

For Jonathan Stephenson, the crucial element, especially after
Drumcree, "is how this state will be policed [B]asically
it is 'their' police force or our police force, it is not an inclusive
police force." In any political settlement, Mr Stephenson
argues that the police would need to be responsible to the political
institutions, whether through a minister of justice, in a devolved
assembly, as the Alliance Party has suggested, or through a more
broadly based, democratically accountable Police Authority. He
also wants a debate as to whether it should be one police service
or, as the SDLP suggests, comprising three or four area police
services with greater community input, perhaps within an all-Ireland
context.

While recognising that "symbols are not unimportant"
for him they "are not the be-all and end-all". Thus
in Dublin "you have the Royal Dublin Show ... and I am sure
if I looked hard enough I could find any number of 'Royals' in
Dublin I think I could live with something like The RUC/Northern
Ireland Police Service [with] each side calling it what
it bloody well wanted."

Jim Gibney takes a tougher view. Rehearsing the events surrounding
Drumcree, he describes the RUC as a sectarian force that regards
Irish nationalists as little more than criminals and treats them
as such. So that force has to go." SF wants it phased out,
replaced by a civilianised, localised, unarmed policing service.
And he insists: "You see our primary demand is for the dissolution
of this state."

In Northern Ireland, economics has
had knock-on effects on the basic political divisions. Social
and economic factors have contributed to Catholic alienation before,
and during, the current 'troubles', particularly in fuelling the
perception among Catholics of unfair discrimination.

The 1991 census revealed once again how unemployment bore down
heavily on the Catholic community: Catholic male unemployment
was 28.4 per cent, compared with 13.9 per cent for Protestants
and other categories; amongst women the equivalent rates were
14.5 per cent for Catholics and 8.8 per cent for Protestants.
Evidence from other sources, such as the Labour Force Survey,
showed similar results.

Because of their higher unemployment levels, Catholics have also
been forced into greater dependence on state benefits. A 1988-91
survey found that 30 per cent of Catholic families were in receipt
of income support, compared with 16 per cent of Protestant households.
And although there has been a narrowing of the income gap between
Catholic and Protestant households in general, the Catholic average
remains lower.

For the British government, Sir David Fell argues that, although
they can be distinguished, the general thrust of policy is to
approach economic, cultural and political pluralism together.
Nevertheless, the concepts of equality of opportunity and equality
of treatment mainly relate to the economic realm. Here government's
objective is to ensure all individuals can participate, without
suffering disadvantage by virtue of community background, race
or gender.

Anti-discrimination legislation is an important component in this,
though here equality of outcome is not an objective. In relation
to particular services or facilities, however, equality of participation
and outcome for marginalised groups is often regarded as a desirable
end and monitoring may be undertaken to confirm this is being
achieved.

The Northern Ireland Constitution Act of 1973 outlawed discrimination
by government and other public authorities on grounds of religious
belief or political opinion. Subsequent legislation provided protection
against religious and political discrimination in employment (1976
and 1989), on gender grounds (1976), and in relation to disability
(1996) and race (1997).

The government's cultural traditions policy meanwhile aims to
increase understanding and appreciation of all the complex strands
of Northern Ireland's cultural heritage. In socio-economic policy,
since 1991 government has been committed to 'targeting social
need' (TSN), directing resources, as far as possible, towards
areas and people objectively defined as being in greatest need.
The government expects that TSN will, over time, help erode intercommunal
socioeconomic differentials.

Since 1994, Northern Ireland departments and other parts of the
public sector have applied Policy Appraisal and Fair Treatment
guidelines when considering new policies or services, and reviewing
existing ones. The PAFT guidelines require departments to identify
potential discriminatory impacts and to consider whether they
are justifiable. Categories of potential discrimination include
religion and political opinion, gender, race and disability.

The government's main political objective remains a 'comprehensive
settlement' which would both return greater power, authority and
responsibility to all the people of Northern Ireland, on an agreed
basis, and take full account of Northern Ireland's wider relationships
with the rest of the UK and of the island of Ireland. Sir David
and the government believe that the policies outlined above work
towards that objective by signalling to the two main politico-religious
communities that legal and administrative mechanisms can safeguard
their political and cultural identities within a Northern Ireland
context. The detail of such arrangements would be within the scope
of the talks process initiated in the summer of 1996.

It has already been suggested, in the opening chapter, that the
government's constitutional project is fundamentally incoherent.
The limitations of the other key policy planks, of PAFT and TSN,
are explored in the conclusion.

The Fair Employment Agency initially concentrated its work on
individual complaints of discrimination by employers. But relatively
few complaints were made and it was very difficult to establish
that there had been any direct discrimination. During the 80s,
the agency shifted the focus of its work to more general investigations
of patterns of employment in sectors or firms, notably the civil
service. In almost all such cases it was found that more Protestants
were employed than would have been expected and that some employer
practices were failing to ensure Catholics equality of opportunity.

The results of this external monitoring eventually persuaded government
that more could be done by all employers to provide equality of
opportunity if they were required to monitor the composition of
their own workforces. A formal obligation to this effect, supervised
by a strengthened Fair Employment Commission (FEC), was imposed
on all employers with more than 25 employees under an amending
Fair Employment Act in 1989.

The practical result is that, though there are no quotas for the
numbers of Protestants or Catholics in any workforce, there is
considerable pressure on employers to take action to secure a
reasonable balance. One of the major achievements of the FEC has
been to make it no longer acceptable in business circles to regard
open or covert discrimination as either tolerable or unavoidable.[9]

Bob Cooper, FEC chair, believes government has a crucial role
to play in securing parity of esteem. The commission, like other
government agencies, is "part of the solution and part of
the problem". In the long term, he sees fair-employment legislation
positively influencing Catholic attitudes to the state: "
I think that the bulk of Catholics sometime would like to see
a united Ireland, sometime in the future, but basically they want
a decent situation ... a decent economic future." He accepts
that the FEC is "seen by the Protestant community as a threat",
as if "we are here to take jobs away from them and give them
to Catholics". He believes that one of the ways in which
this fear can be removed is by much greater investment.

Terry Carlin (ICTU) concurs on this last point. He wants to see
a devolved government where politicians in Northern Ireland co-operate
on issues like housing, jobs, education, and health: "Somebody
asked me one time what I wanted for Northern Ireland. I said 100,000
jobs, 30,000 houses."

All aspects of Northern Ireland's society are touched by its divisions.
The games curriculum of many, if not most, schools is predominantly
Catholic or Protestant. Gaelic sports prevail in most Catholic
schools, whereas games with British pedigree, such as rugby union,
hockey and cricket, predominate in many Protestant establishments.
There are, however, a group of sports-including soccer, basketball
and netball - which cut across the denominational split. Nevertheless,
simply playing a game which is played by people in the other community
counts little towards integration if it is only done 'against
them' and in the company of those from 'your own side'.

Outside the school gates, a subtle sporting apartheid is sustained
by a vast network of voluntary organisations and governing bodies
through which separate community affiliation is confirmed, in
terms of what games are played and watched, which teams are supported,
and which clubs and societies are joined and patronised. Indeed,
sport has developed as one of Northern Ireland's most important
symbols of national and community identity: it has been estimated
that, outside of schools, up to a quarter of a million people
are actively involved in sport in the region.[10]

The Sports Council of Northern Ireland attempts to ensure that
sectarianism is removed from the sporting arena as far as is possible.
For its director, Eamon McCartan, sport can be an "agent
for good and an agent for not so good. We try to develop policies
and strategies, encourage people to undertake actions or programmes
of work which are inclusive and cohesive, rather than exclusive
and divisive." A sports development officer is tasked with
looking at community relations and the SCNI is in the process
of completing a community relations strategy.

Mr McCartan describes the Sports Council as a non-sectarian organisation
which seeks to develop sport in a nonsectarian environment. The
SCNI looks at models of good practice which might be more generally
deployed, but he recognises that while it can develop strategies
"it is down to the club, down to the governing body, and
one thing you couldn't do is ... force people into it".

He warns that Catholic-Protestant sporting encounters, such as
those between schools, can actually accentuate tensions, if badly
managed: "So you need to create an environment which is a
positive environment where the competition is brisk and robust
for the purposes of sport, because competition is the key element
of sport, but you are being competitive because you wish to win
the sport - not because you wish to knock the shit out of one
or the other because of their religion."

Mr McCartan stresses that change in Northern Ireland is very difficult
because of its conservatism and so favours evolution over revolution,
gradually planting seeds in the governing bodies and in the clubs,
about community relations, about improved relationships - because
"that is what we are talking about, relationships between
people, ordinary people".

The televising of various sports, identified along communal lines,
is only one of the problems broadcasters encounter regarding parity
of esteem. Now BBC NI controller, Patrick Loughrey has been involved
with community-relations initiatives such as the Cultural Traditions
Group of the NICRC, which he argues was a far-sighted attempt
to "grasp the taboos, because there is no doubt that we were
crippled by our politeness to a large extent". This drew
broadcasters, print journalists, museums, publishers, institutes
and universities into addressing identity issues.

Mr Loughrey expresses unease about an analysis of Northern Ireland
which only recognises two traditions: "I have argued for
a very long time that there are many traditions, many backgrounds,
many identities and that to easily succumb ... to an analysis
that is simple dichotomy ... is to take the political polarisation
and to allow it to appropriate a far more diverse cultural historical
group." While he can see a danger of being accused of "escapism
from the polarised truth", he stresses that the future must
be "one of true individualism rather than this collectivism,
because collectivism is a way to tribalism and danger. there are
not just two communities".

Mr Loughrey believes that all broadcasters have an obligation
to communication, dialogue and the avoidance of easy labelling,
particularly since Northern Ireland has been a community lacking
a common forum for discussion and debate, lacking a parliament,
lacking opportunities for confrontation with issues-broadcasters
can potentially, fill that gap. As to whether the BBC should 'educate'
the community, he claims that its output reflects concerted attempts
to open up for discussion, and awareness, that which is incomprehensible
to each tradition.

But he also believes that, like education, broadcasting needs
to be aware of its limitations and he worries there is a danger
that either education or broadcasting can be expected to do rather
more than it can. The information and entertainment roles of broadcasting
are also hugely siguificant and "people take from us what
they want and our role of 'giving the people what's good for them'
has changed dramatically ... so I don't think we can effect certain
change if society doesn't want to accept it. What we can do is
continue to offer opportunities for awareness, for debate and
discussion and dialogue ..."

Dr Philip McGarry of the Alliance Party also emphasises the diversity
of Northern Ireland's identities. Alliance again prefers to see
identity as an individual matter, and to ensure that the unionist
and nationalist traditions are not perceived as exhaustive. For
the party, the 'third tradition' is the 'liberal and democratic'
one, based not on land and nationality, but on freedom, plurality
and internationalism. Its primary value is deemed to be respect
for individual conscience and it stands for democracy, values
minorities and distrusts the authoritarian tendencies of the big
battalions. It welcomes diversity in all societies, as a source
of strength and richness.

Quintin Oliver, of the Northern Ireland Council for Voluntary
Action, recalls how, following Drumcree, he encountered an air
of demoralisation in the voluntary sector: "We thought that
there was a more progressive mood of tolerance but a lot of us
are examining that, postDrumeree, because we failed, because people
went back into their trenches." Although Northern Ireland
is considered to have a strong civil society, Mr Oliver perceives
that there remains "a gulf ... a chasm that still needs to
be bridged".

On the other hand, the positive aspect of voluntary and community
life is that "we have done a lot, we have picked up the pieces
from the 'troubles', we have kept people talking, we have kept
candles of hope glittering in both communities, we have developed
a lively women's movement which is credited with having done a
lot of the development and discussion work across the communities
and emerged very positively during the peace as vehicles for negotiation
at talks". Mr Oliver also cites some local anti-sectarian
development work, and the broader community activity in Northern
Ireland, "which is unrivalled and at the leading edge in
UK and European terms".

He sees civil-society organisations as "absolutely critical"
in developing a pluralist society in Northern Ireland. Where people
say 'we can do nothing, it is the politicians', 'we can do nothing,
it is the governments', 'we can do nothing, it is the men of violence',
Mr Oliver counters that "there are lots of things that we
in our various roles can do, in trade unions, in churches ...
in business organisations, local councils, community groups, voluntary
groups and so forth, and that is where we in NICVA are doing work
with our counterparts at the Northern Ireland level, with the
C[onfederation of] B[ritish] I[ndustry] ... and the farmers' organisations
to build a Social Partners' Forum to underpin civil society, to
strengthen the voices of civil society and business organisations
and to give a lead on these areas where action can be taken without
major political or structural changes."

It is worth adding the rider, though, that from her community-relations,
rather than community-development, perspective, Mari Fitzduff
is a little critical of the voluntary sector in Northern Ireland.
She argues that it has actually been reluctant to acknowledge
sectarianism and deal with it.

Many of those interviewed, while necoguising that parity of esteem
involves an accommodation between the two main traditions, also
emphasised that a genuinely pluralist society requires a wider
tolerance and equity. In particular, the place of women in Northern
Ireland has dramatically altered during the 'troubles', assisted
by the expansion of service industries. Between 1952 and the 1990s,
the female proportion of employees increased from 36 per cent
to over 48 per cent in an expanded workforce. Women, have, however,
been concentrated in a very limited number of sectors and in low-paid,
frequently part-time, jobs. The most dramatic change has been
the increase in married women in employment, from just under 30
per cent in 1961 to 59 per cent by the 80s.

Evelyn Collins of the Equal Opportunities Commission is quite
heartened by the success of the Women's Coalition in being elected
to the Northern Ireland Forum and talks, as evidence of how there
have been "tremendous energies put in by women into practical,
non-constitutional political questions over the last 25 years
... in spite of what was happening and ... you can observe that
quite clearly and I think that is interesting. Does that say that
women aren't interested in the constitutional question? Or that
they are more interested in health care ?"

Ms Collins claims that women do recognise that constitutional
issues are important, but many realise that "we shouldn't
... just ... not talk about anything else". She feels that
one problem with cultural identity in Northern Ireland is that
it is used by many "not as a kind of general description
of what they are but actually as an aggressive weapon against
what somebody else is. So I think that is where incompatibility
arises, when people go beyond saying 'this is what I feel I am
because of these reasons to 'it is because I feel I am in opposition
to what you are'. I don't feel really hostile to anybody."

Her thoughts on the Northern Ireland political situation are rather
of frustration and depression and she sees the Women's Coalition
as "actually a good encapsulation of what I think [is] the
way a lot of women feel, that people have to talk, you have to
get round the table, you have to put everything on the table and
find a solution, as opposed to 'we are not talking because we
think there is no solution', or 'we are not talking because we
don't like the solution that we think you might have'."

As regards ethnic minorities in Northern Ireland, Patrick Yu of
the Northern Ireland Council for Ethnic Minorities feels that
the inadequacy of government support indicates the low priority
attached to their needs. Thus, the Chinese community has had to
depend upon its own resources to set up a Chinese-language school,
and a similar process has had to be undertaken by Indian, Pakistani
and other Muslim communities. Mr Yu also insists that there are
more than the two main traditions in Northern Ireland. On top
of the new Race Relations Order, he urges a coherent policy to
remove institutional racism - for example, through providing interpreters
at health and social service access points.

He identifies a need for the police to be more receptive to ethnic
minority needs. At some RUC stations, he claims, there is an ambivalence
about the language difficulties ethnic minorities encounter when
reporting crime, while at other stations, such as Donegall Pass
in Belfast, a conscious effort has been made to be accommodating.
He would like to see an extension of this good practice, through
the training of police officers, throughout Northern Ireland.
And he calls for a "cultural programme" in schools,
believing it to be "very important in life that any community
should respect another community rather than ... emphasising one
single perspective".

Speaking on behalf of the travelling community, Michael Noonan
summarises the reaction of the state as one of "straightforward
repression". He cites the Miscellaneous Provisions Order
(NI) 1985, in effect a law which can allow the imposition of a
quota of travellers to a particular area if a local authority
can satisfy the D[epartment] o[f] E[nvironment] that 'adequate'
... provision has been made for travellers who normally reside
in, or resort to, a particular district. So once an area is desiguated
... whole areas can be declared off limits to travellers not camped
on these official sites." Mr Noonan argues that this is in
contravention of the UN Charter and the Universal Declaration
of Human Rights, prescribing that everyone has the right to freedom
of movement and residence within the borders of each state.

Travellers, he contends, have not enjoyed parity of esteem in
terms of equality of access to services. Historically, the education
authorities "really didn't give a damn whether travellers
went to school or not. Certainly there was no effort to examine
how the delivery of education might be tailored to the needs of
a nomadic group or indeed how their culture and so on might be
reflected within the school curriculum." Mr Noonan calls
for all children to be educated, via the curriculum, about the
various cultures of Northern Ireland, including the culture of
travellers.

The key theme to emerge from the focus
groups was, again, the close correlation with the interviewees'
responses. For example, while there were similarities in the outlook
of women and their experiences, expressed in the Catholic and
Protestant women's focus groups, this comity ended with introduction
of the subject of defining parity of esteem and its relationship
to the community from which the women hailed. From this point
onwards, the core myths about Britishness and Irishness expressed
in the other focus groups reentered the debate.

When the debate was restricted to women and gender identity, participants
in the women's groups argued that there was no 'parity of esteem'
for them. And they could extend this to a lack of esteem, defined
as respect and tolerance, enjoyed by other social groups, such
as ethnic minorities, homosexuals or the disabled. It was suggested
that parity of esteem meant that men and women should have the
same degree of authority and respect in society generally. It
was felt, by both Catholic and Protestant women, that there was
a stereotypical role into which women were placed, where they
were expected to remain at home engaged in domestic housework
and take primary responsibility for raising children.

Many felt that barriers were placed in the way of women achieving
parity with men, such as lack of childcare preventing women utilising
job or educational opportunities. It was felt that greater involvement
in politics - in which the Women's Coalition appeared to offer
some encouragement and a good role model - required political
parties to take greater account of women's issues and perspectives.

Within the youth focus group, participants recalled positive experiences
of meeting in a forum where they could encounter young people
from the other community. The perception among this mixed, Protestant
and Catholic, group was that meeting members of the other community
broke down stereotypes and prejudices, making it easier to view
people of differing religious groups on an individual rather than
a communal basis.

Members of this group claimed, moreover, that involvement in cross-community
contact schemes led them to become more tolerant of the symbols
and cultural identity of others. Protestants within the group
spoke, however, of opposition they had encountered within their
community to such schemes, apparently out of fear of their ultimate
purpose.

Nevertheless, it was noticeable in this group that once a discussion
of flags and symbols began divisions broke out along religious
lines. This was also true of discussions about the Irishness of
Catholics and the Britishness of Protestants, which reflected
the views exhibited by adults in other groups. This appeared to
indicate that even in a mixed environment where the participants
knew each other well the introduction of issues revolving around
a unionist-nationalist axis evoked a deeper response.

From both the Protestant focus groups, urban and rural, parallel
claims emerged of a sense of being under cultural pressure. Some
members of the groups were extremely opposed to initiatives such
as EMU and cultural heritage. There was a very real apprehension
that this was part of a government effort to 'Irishise' Protestants,
with a view to the ultimate disengagement of the British state.
By contrast, Catholics, from all focus groups, felt at ease with
the notion of increased cross-community contact.

Those Protestants opposed to EMU and cultural heritage were not,
on the other hand, necessarily opposed to integrated education,
which found widespread support among both Catholics and Protestants.
There was a sense within the focus groups that while many people
wanted to send their children to integrated schools they did not
have the opportunity. The impression was that parents wanted to
send their children to integrated schools which offered a high
standard of education, but were often prohibited by lack of access
to such schools locally.

From the focus groups it could be seen that many of the issues
raised by politicians-flags, symbols and the Irish language -
were concerns reflected within the society more broadly. Regardless
of class or gender, Catholics expressed hostility to the monocultural
British ethos of the Northern Ireland state. There was concern
at the lack of funding for Irish-language schools and approval
for the increased coverage of Gaelic games on television. Yet
this angered many Protestants, who contended that the Orange Order
was portrayed as a sectarian organisation whereas the Gaelic Athletic
Association-which banned members of the RUC, the Royal Irish Regiment
and the British army-was given substantial and unquestioned coverage.

While some Catholics, including one republican, were prepared
to accept limited use of British symbols, such as on government
buildings, on certain days such as the Queen's birthday, they
found it offensive that the Union flag flew over police stations - particularly
in or near Catholic areas - and unionist-controlled councils.
Nearly all Protestants, on the other hand, were very much opposed
to any further reduction in the display of British symbols. The
idea that there should be dual display of the flags of the UK
and the republic on government buildings, while it found favour
among Catholics (although many did not regard it as realistic
in the short term), met total Protestant opposition.

Protestants only perceived attacks upon their symbols of Britishness,
not on nationalist symbols of Irishness. Catholics argued this
was necessary to establish an equilibrium between Irishness and
Britishness in Northern Ireland. While Protestants consoled themselves
that they had their Britishness recognised by their membership
of the UK, they saw efforts to upgrade Irishness in conjunction
with their fears about the framework document at one level and
European economic and monetary union at another - all seen as
geared towards loosening Northern Ireland's position within the
union. Protestants within the focus groups tended to react negatively
to all expressions of nationalist Irishness.

Any suggestion that the RUC should have its name changed or be
disbanded produced bitter comments. Yet while some Catholics wished
to see the RUC replaced, others were willing to accept substantial
reform. This included suggestions that a new police service might
have the dual title of The RUC/Northern Ireland's Police Service;
introduction of a completely independent complaints procedure;
and removal of controversial symbols of Britishness, such as the
flying of the Union flag outside police stations, the oath of
allegiance to the Queen and royal portraits.

Many Catholics emphasised, however, that they would now insist
upon greater changes to the RUC since the Drumcree 'stand-off'
of 1996, when it was seen to have been ineffective in standing
up to the marchers, and to have used disproportionate force towards
nationalists. Drumcree was seen as a fundamental attack on parity
of esteem. Catholics rejected the claim that parades in controversial
districts should be permitted because they were 'traditional',
since they did not admit that these had been welcome on previous
occasions. And it was accepted by most Catholics that Protestants
were right to assume that concessions on symbols, policing and
parades would not result in nationalists abandoning aspirations
for far-reaching constitutional changes.

All Catholics in the focus groups argued that loyal-order marches
should acquire the consent of residents in Catholic areas through
which the marchers had to pass. This was described as a human-rights
issue. The marchers were seen as attempting to dominate local
residents and emphasise that Northern Ireland remained a Protestant
state. Most Catholics found it difficult to accept that Protestant
culture was being discriminated against by the failure to march
along 'traditional' routes, which were regarded as traditional
only because they had been imposed on Catholic residents in the
past, or because Protestants had once, but no longer, lived there.

For many Catholics, the coming of the Orange marching season recalled
experiences of fear, intimidation and taunting by marchers. It
was felt that decisions on proposed parade routes should be locality-sensitive,
taking full account of the rights and feelings of the communities
living along the routes. It was stressed that local communities
had rights as well as the marchers and these should be recognised.

They held that people had the right to march but that right was
not absolute and should be exercised with the sensitivities of
others in mind. The residents of areas through which parades intended
to pass had to have the right to withhold their consent to parades
if they caused offence; if that consent was not given then march
organisers should seek alternative routes. March organisers should
also give assurances about marchers' behaviour and those who associated
themselves with parades had to ensure sectarian provocation was
avoided. Permission for future parades should be dependent on
those wishes being fulfilled.

For Protestant participants, on the other hand, the resistance
of local resident groups to marches, in areas such as the Garvaghy
Road in Portadown, was seen as a direct attack upon Protestant
and British culture. To many Protestants within the focus groups,
all the rhetoric of nationalists on parity of esteem was just
that - rhetoric. As one person expressed it, he would love to see
parity of esteem for his, Protestant and British, culture on the
Garvaghy Road. For these Protestants, residents' groups were merely
a cover for republicans who had needed another outlet for their
anti-Britishness during the IRA ceasefire.

Most Protestants in the focus groups believed that there was an
attempt to remove British culture from Northern Ireland. Protestants
continually claimed that the loyal orders were not anti-Catholic.
It was suggested that where Orangemen could not walk Protestants
could not live, as illustrated by the boycott of Protestant businesses
following Drumcree. The view was expressed that the issue of parades
was far bigger than walking down a stretch of road: it was about
whether the British culture of Protestants was to survive.

This was not seen in isolation, but in conjunction with other
examples of assaults on Protestantism, such as 'ethnic cleansing'
on the border. The view was expressed that Protestants had been
pushed eastwards from rural areas, near the border, and now an
attempt was being made to exclude them from parts of Northern
Ireland's cities and towns as well. It was felt that anyone should
have the right to walk along the 'Queen's highway', along 'traditional'
routes walked by their forefathers.

Many Catholics believed that, despite the changes which had come
about since the fall of Stormont, they were still seen as enemies
of the state, as being 'disloyal', and frequent reference was
made to Lord Brookeborough's statements in the 30s. There was
a perception that Catholics were not able fully to express their
Irish identity The true measure of esteem, it was suggested, was
the respect, equality and justice accorded to the culture of one's
enemy'. This absence of respect for Irish nationalist culture
contributed towards Catholic alienation from the state.

With more than 3,000 marches every year, of which more than 90
per cent were loyalist, Northern Ireland was considered a Protestant
place. Catholic marches, on the other hand, were prevented from
entering many city or town centres, contributing towards a feeling
that Protestants still 'owned the place', that the 'public face'
of Northern Ireland remained Protestant. Many Catholics found
it intimidating that public places flew the Union flag, or that
council buildings continued to display such signs as 'Castlereagh
Still Says No'.

One person, who described herself as neither nationalist nor republican,
but Catholic, complained that she was tired of continually hearing
the same old rhetoric from unionists. For her, the important consideration
was how would her rights be protected, as a non-political Catholic?
She wished to hear some positive encouragement from unionist politicians
that she, and people like her, had to a right to exist in the
Northern Ireland state.

There was tension expressed by some members of the focus groups
towards what they regarded as 'Castle Catholics', those middle-class
Catholics who, it was felt, had compromised their nationalism
to attain a certain status. It was felt that working-class Catholics
had been constantly faced with violence, while middle-class Catholics
had not had to live with a conflict on their doorstep. As one
person put it, some people had lived in Belfast but for the last
ten years had been unaware there was a war on.

Although both Catholics and Protestants expressed a desire to
end segregated housing, it was also apparent that few thought
much could be done in a practical way to achieve this, given the
intercommunal tensions. Some Protestants expressed a fear of what
they saw as the slow, but steady, colonisation of formally Protestant
areas by Catholics. This was related to fear that the closing
of 'Protestant' - that is, state - schools in those areas was
part of a deliberate attempt to drive Protestants out.

In a different vein, the Fair Employment Commission was seen as
being a predominantly Catholic organisation. Protestants who accepted
the need for fair employment legislation to reduce employment
inequities warned that this in itself was creating a sense of
injustice within their community. It was also suggested that if
Catholics did have genuine grievances in the past, this was no
longer so. Direct rule, it was argued, had materially and culturally
shifted the balance towards Catholics, often on the back of IRA
violence.

For Catholic group participants, by contrast, issues of employment
and unemployment were closely wrapped up with their perceptions
of the Northern Ireland state. There was a sense that Catholics
did not have a fair and equal role in Northern Ireland. With various
instances cited of political, social, economic and cultural experience
in Northern Ireland, reinforcing socio-economic grievances, for
many Catholics fair employment legislation was not enough to remedy
their sense of alienation: for them, the main source of grievance
was the existence of the state itself.

The Northern Ireland state was regarded as inherently sectarian,
having been established on the basis of a religious headcount
to preserve an artificially large Protestant and pro-British majority.
For these Catholics, the state was irreformable and the only way
to achieve equality was through its dissolution and the establishment
of an all-Ireland unitary or federal state. These Catholics felt
that because of the British guarantee, the 'unionist veto', there
could be no change within the UK, because this merely encouraged
Protestants to adopt an intransigent attitude to change.

Those Catholics who welcomed such reforms as fair employment legislation
nevertheless criticised the British government for their piecemeal
character in the context of an overall policy perceived as reactive
with a priority of containing the security situation. Moreover,
fair employment legislation would continue to have a limited impact
if its benefits could not be demonstrated to more people in deprived
areas.

For many Protestants, on the other hand, fair employment legislation
was seen as primarily directed at them. Some believed it to be
part of a general preparation for an ultimate British disengagement
from Northern Ireland, part of a general running down of the material
well-being of the Protestant community.

This section has explored a wide gamut
of sites of grievance and contention, from cultural expression
to policing. Again, the proliferation of these sites and the gulf
of understanding and aspiration are striking.

On the other hand, however, two positive conclusions emerge from
this discussion. The first is that there are ways in which parity
of esteem can be thematically addressed in a manner susceptible
to tangible reform, and in some areas - such as fair employment
- significant reform has already been made. And the second is
that, outside of government and the parties, there is a wealth
of individual and organisational talent in Northern Ireland, derived
from experience and social networks, which has shown a capacity
to think through the issues in a manner rather more adequate to
their complexity.